


all the quiet nights you bear

by tofugumball



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hogwarts Hospital Wing, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Sharing a Bed, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21569137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofugumball/pseuds/tofugumball
Summary: But what Sirius enjoys the most about the hospital wing is Moony’s warm body lying inches from his, and the soothing sense of safety that inevitably comes with it.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 18
Kudos: 112





	all the quiet nights you bear

**Author's Note:**

> title from "I Will" by Mitski
> 
> This takes place sometime in their Sixth Year.

Despite all the unpleasant associations, Sirius has always enjoyed spending nights in the hospital wing. The sound of echoing footsteps and the faint lights of the torches make him feel as if he’s in a Gothic horror novel, as if he’s something innocent and precious to be protected. He enjoys the high windows and dancing shadows on the walls, and he enjoys the secret stash of chocolate he helped Remus hide in one of the mouse holes they’ve used an Extension Charm on.

But what he enjoys the most about it is Moony’s warm body lying inches from his, and the soothing sense of safety that inevitably comes with it.

Remus is staying in the hospital wing tonight, this last full moon having taken a bigger toll on him than usual. After the clocks strike midnight, Sirius sneaks past Madam Pomfrey’s office and into Remus’s bed, casting a lazy _Muffliato_ as he grins down at Remus and throws back the thin covers.

Sirius didn’t tell Remus he’d come, but he didn’t have to. It’s slowly becoming their own sort of tradition, and Remus doesn’t even bother and try to talk Sirius out of the illegal visits anymore.

Tonight they’re quieter than usual. Remus seems content to lie in silence, resting on his side with his eyes closed. Sirius is in a pensive mood, himself. There’s a lot on his mind; he’s been reminiscing, thinking back on their younger selves, all the ways they’ve changed over the years.

“I miss your lectures. You haven’t introduced us to any new philosophers in a while.”

Remus shrugs. “Haven’t been reading as much, I guess.”

Sirius waits, his eyes fixed on Remus’s face. He knows that’s a lie; he’s been watching the Marauders’ Map a lot lately, and Remus’s dot has been practically stuck in the library.

“Anyway, it’s not like I even knew what the fuck I was going on about, most of the time,” Remus says dismissively.

His right leg is bandaged and he's probably still annoyed about Madam Pomfrey forcing him to drink a full cup of Pepper-Up Potion earlier.

“That’s not true,” Sirius says quietly. “You understood everything you talked about. All the fancy concepts and theses. That’s what made listening to you so nice.”

Sirius remembers the enthusiasm which used to emanate from Remus when he would elaborate on some philosophical idea or concept he’d read about. How his eyes would light up and he’d snap his fingers impatiently, searching frantically for the right word.

“I love listening to you talk,” Sirius adds, glancing at Remus.

Remus huffs with silent laughter.

“Are you telling me you _didn’t_ used to snore your way through my enlightening ramblings?”

“Yeah,” Sirius confirms with a small smile, even though they’re both aware that Remus already knows. He’s just looking for validation, never quite satisfied, always needing more. It’s one of the things they understand perfectly about each other.

“I always listened.”

This is unusual for them, he knows. Normally, he’d smirk and tease Remus until he managed to make him flush with irritation or embarrassment, or both. But Sirius feels soft, tonight. He feels tender. He doesn’t want to tease Remus; he wants to stroke him, hold him, kiss him.

He stays still, contents himself with just looking at Remus, taking in his freckled nose, his dark eyelashes, the white scar above his right eyebrow. It’s enough– it’s more than enough.

When Remus eventually breaks the comfortable silence that’s fallen between them, he changes the subject, steers the conversation away from himself, and Sirius would feel frustrated if he wasn’t so used to it.

“I noticed the letter,” Remus says carefully. “From your parents?”

Sirius shifts, irrationally anxious all of a sudden. He doesn’t feel prepared for this, but Remus reaches for his hand and squeezes, hard.

“Something’s been bothering you, I can tell.” Remus’s fingers start moving up and down Sirius’s forearm, stroking lightly, reassuringly. “Come on. You can talk to me.”

And it’s not like Sirius doesn’t know that; it’s just that it’s so obvious that Remus hasn’t been at his best, lately. Sirius didn’t want to weigh him down any further, has been trying so hard to give him the space he thought Remus wanted. On the other hand – maybe this could be a distraction. Maybe it’ll help Remus to focus on someone else’s problems, will draw him out of his head a little.

Sirius knows that if there’s anything Remus likes, it’s to feel useful. _Needed_.

 _Screw it_ , Sirius thinks. _Here goes_.

“I miss the house,” he says and clears his throat, embarrassed but determined to follow through. “I know I shouldn’t, I know I was miserable there and my family is actually insane, but I– I don’t know. I guess I miss the view from my window, and–”

A few tears trickle across his cheeks and sink into the pillow. He’s grateful for Moony’s warm hand in his, the steady grip grounding Sirius, reminding him that he’s miles and miles away from Grimmauld Place.

“You spent the vast majority of your life there,” Remus is saying, his voice gentle, “of course you’re going to miss some things about it.”

Sirius draws in a shaky breath. It’s a relief that Moony isn’t judging him, but he’s not convinced that he’s right.

“I feel so stupid, though. I never thought I’d miss anything about that hellish place. All I could think of was to get away as quickly as possible, I didn’t even pack my things or– or say goodbye to Regulus. Nothing.”

They lie there in silence, just breathing. Sirius tries not to spill any more tears onto their shared pillow.

“You don’t think...” Remus starts hesitantly. “You don’t think you might ever go back?”

Sirius doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Never,” he says with force. “Fuck that. Nothing can make me go back to that house, ever.”

He’s silent for a moment as he recalls to memory the menacing faces of his parents, the dead house elves’ heads lining the corridor, Kreacher’s croaky voice, dripping with contempt.

“I really do hate them,” he says, and he means it. “I’m not– it’s not like I’ll start feeling sentimental towards that nightmare of a life all of a sudden, just because I left. I’m not forgetting how miserable it was. I guess I’m just– you know. Having a weak moment.”

“All of us do, sometimes.” Remus whispers. He pulls his hand out of Sirius’s grip; puts it on Sirius’s wet cheek, instead, strokes his thumb gently across Sirius’s cheekbone.

The gesture is impossibly, painfully tender. Sirius shuts his eyes, but he can’t stop more tears from spilling over.

“You’re getting my hand all wet, you prat.” Remus sounds mostly fond, but there’s a shade of concern in his voice.

Sirius opens his eyes. Remus is smiling at him sadly; his eyes are tired and bloodshot, his face drawn and pale. Sirius’s heart constricts helplessly.

“Tell you what. I’ll stop crying if you go to sleep.”

“Deal.”

And Remus does; he falls asleep soon after that, his breathing evened out at last.

Padfoot keeps watch throughout the night. Outside, the wind is slamming tree branches against the windowpanes; they scratch against the glass, squeaking unpleasantly. The room is cold; the torchlights cast strange shadows on the walls, flickering with every draught. It smells like Pepper-Up Potion and fresh bandages and sweat. Under the covers, Remus’s fingers tighten around a fistful of Padfoot’s fur, pulling almost painfully hard.

There is nowhere else Sirius would rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> please consider signing Remus's petition to ban Pepper-Up Potion worldwide
> 
> thank you for reading <3
> 
> i'm on tumblr @queeratleast!


End file.
